| Uh-huh, yeah, I represent Da Circle
|
| This go out to Fuzz, the Jake, po-po
|
| One time, them boys
|
| Haha, better known to y’all as the beast
|
| Yeah, uh-huh, check it
|
| 40 to a pig’s head ←-(?), get in the crib
|
| Hit the lamp post, and took a 40 yard piss
|
| So sit twice, that’s good
|
| Can’t keep my cock out, turn the boogie
|
| This rookie flat foot, had his Glock out
|
| Damn it’s so wild, you wildin'
|
| You all gung-ho, for that bum ass 25,000
|
| Should of got a job at Staples, stockin' shelves
|
| 4 to 12, get you the safe paper
|
| Here’s the idea, I’m Poison Pen, yeah stay right there man
|
| I live with no string, breath easy
|
| You get loud, I get loud back
|
| You calm down, you get wild, I get wild back
|
| No disrespect to the kid, I get ?? |
| as fuck
|
| Especially when my record is clean
|
| Patted me down, deputes stacks
|
| Half for me, got her realize only got two g’s back, damn
|
| I hate muthafuckin' cops like Justin Vowby and Richard Murphy
|
| So I paid a prostitute to fuck ‘em slowly and give ‘em herpes
|
| Protect and serve me 'cause I pay taxes right
|
| Instead they go 730, and beat me with their magna lights
|
| It happened twice, Huntricle Station in Central Iceland
|
| Gettin' righteous, whoopin' my ass with the Sheriff’s night-stick
|
| I’d rather fight than run, like Will Tarance, guest starrin' in the precinct
|
| Smackin' the death sergeant with my arrest warrants
|
| Treated like my eyes are blind, so I do right in silent ?? |
| time
|
| For slittin' cop’s throat with a badge he hides behind
|
| It’s a sign of the times and made me a firm believer
|
| They’ll perform illegal search and seize ya take your work and beat ya
|
| I rolled up on a cop with a stolen go-kart and hit him so hard
|
| He rico-shades and flips over his own patrol car
|
| Call for back-up, I won’t run when I hear the iron blast
|
| I’ll just laugh when I see them muthafuckin' sirens flash
|
| Ayo secretly assaulted, decieving ghetto orphans
|
| Momma ran the righteous equivalent to abortions
|
| Remain silent, the law which you pretend to be
|
| Public defenders, with no interest in defendin' me
|
| Whatever happened with to each is own
|
| Your timeline of corruption stretchin' reach their own
|
| This ain’t Julius Ceaser, seize and assist pa
|
| These don’t exist if police cuff my wrist pa
|
| I got patience, got a strong resolve
|
| But if all else fail, got the chrome revolved
|
| In revolvalution, upholds my constitutional rights
|
| If you think they playin' fair you delusional
|
| I cause contusions to coppers, who confuse a few
|
| Make they black bruise ooze white puss like a Suzy-Cue
|
| I’m like the big bad wolf to these piglets, with no resentment
|
| A co-defendant of the ??
|
| Four cops, 41 shots, 19 hit the frame, close range
|
| One unarmed man, like ?? |
| poll
|
| My scriptures beat the Gospel
|
| Protect and serve, mathematically impossible
|
| Continuous oppressive procession, latin and nigga depression
|
| Is now your condition
|
| Resist arrest, they got ya number, get your teeth knocked out
|
| Four astericks on a plunger
|
| Coward bastards got me pulled over in traffic
|
| Talkin' sarcastic, smithies' on they ratchets
|
| I speak for the niggas and spics, dudes and chicks
|
| Without the badge and gun, you ain’t shit
|
| Crime scene alterations, cover-up altercations
|
| That end in homicide with no justification
|
| Political agendas achieved though economic
|
| P.O.L.I.C.E spell pigs in ebonics
|
| We were swallowed by the system for 500 summers
|
| In order to satisfy Europe and Americas hunger
|
| The preach-hate police state gives football numbers
|
| But it’s always probation, for the rich, white
|
| New generation of pill-poppin' politicians that make a donation
|
| The segregation of drug offenses prevent their incarceration
|
| You can’t justify your liberation, 'cause you’re the incarnation of Jefferson
|
| Davies' nation
|
| The Justice System is a plantation, the Blue-Klux-Klan overseers beat us
|
| lifeless
|
| I wish someone would rape a cop with a night-stick
|
| Side swipe you in Central Park and get your bike flipped
|
| You pretend to be righteous and use torture devices
|
| In Chicago, New York and down in the south of course
|
| Use to hunt us for sport, now we takin' the court
|
| With some trumped-up charges added in the report
|
| ‘Cause you hopin' that we cop a plea
|
| You can keep your fake rehabilitation philosophy
|
| Fuck prison, my freedom is prophecy
|
| So I’m drivin' with the pump-shot cocked in Copland
|
| With heavy-metal screamin' out like a Rock band
|
| ‘Cause if you don’t respect me, then I don’t respect you
|
| And if you don’t protect us, then it will affect you
|
| Each bullet is a scalpel and it will dissect you
|
| You muthafuckas know what it is
|
| Immortal Technique, Da Circle
|
| Harlem, Brooklyn
|
| Back again muthafucka
|
| We ain’t takin' no shit from no pig mothafucka
|
| You heard that nigga
|
| Immortal Technique
|
| 'Fuck out of here |